


The Resupply Predicament

by FUCK_NUGGETS



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Dry Humping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 20:54:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4801916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FUCK_NUGGETS/pseuds/FUCK_NUGGETS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sniper and Scout mysteriously find themselves in a sticky situation ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Resupply Predicament

Sweat dripped from the forehead of an unmoving being. Each drop flowed from the peak of his head and slowly dropped from the bottom of his chin into a small puddle of the salty liquid, about the size of a quarter. Other than the occasional drop of sweat plopping into the pool of its kind, it was completely silent in the small room. That is, if one could call it a room, the tiny locker could barely hold two average sized men. The smaller, more agile of the two was beginning to awaken from his deep, unconscious rest, as for the taller and more lean one, he was still out of it. The mercenary lumbered awake, drifting in and out of consciousness, his blue-grey eyes fluttering open every few seconds, but quickly drooping down again and again.

  
His eyes opened one last time one he fully grabbed the concept that he was not in his semi-comfortable bed that he woke up every morning in, but leaning against another being, his sock covered feet on the cold, hard floor. He was in nothing but his pjs, which consisted of briefs, a t-shirt, and occasionally socks; once his eyes did open that last time, it wasn't a gentle flutter as before, they sprung open, in both fear and confusion. He tried to push himself off the other body with his hands to only discover that his arms were tied at the wrists behind his hips.

  
'What?' he wondered, not noticing the drool that paved its way from the right corner of his lip down onto the shirt of the other mercenary before him. 'Where am I?' The struggling runner questioned himself, as if his subconscious knew the answer. After a few failed attempts to push his mass onto the other side of the locker he finally managed to heave onto the other side using his head for leverage. He took a few deep breaths before fully taking in his surroundings, using as many of his senses to figure out where he was in the pitch black space. "What the fuck?" he sighed, tracing his flank around his half of the perimeter until he bumped into the taller figure.

  
Using his head, he gently head-butted the other mercenary. "Ey you awake?" he asked, before returning to his side. No answer. The runner examined what little he could see of the face before him. "Sniper?!" He called out, hoping to awaken the seemingly unconscious bushman. Still no response.

  
Although his torso and head we're able to lean on his own half of the locker, the runner's hips and legs were intertwined with the assassins. As an attempt to break out, he charged against both sides of the crammed locker. No weaknesses nor areas that seemed to be a possible exit.

  
The merc sighed irritably, searching for anywhere to get out, and not realizing that Sniper was beginning to come to his senses. "God fucking dammit! Very funny guys can you let me out now? You've had your laughs!" the frustrated merc ordered, expecting maybe Pyro or Demo to open the resupply locker they were in, laughing and mumbling how funny it was to see Scout struggle to get out.  
But there was no laughter. No Pyro or Demo; no sounds at all. Only his own voice. Sniper's eyes lethargically opened, much more gently than the vexed Scout in front of him. "What the bloody 'ell are you goin' about?" Sniper questioned in a low voice.

  
"Do you know what's goin' on?" Scout asked the tiresome Sniper. "What do ya mean? What's going on?" "Look around yourself idiot!" It took Sniper a few seconds to process before he too realized this isn't where he usually woke up from long rests. "Oh." he murmered.

  
"Well now what?" Sniper wondered, still trying to figure out where they both were. "We could start by tryin' a get the fuck outta here maybe. Try to rock this thing over." the agile merc ordered, as if he knew exactly what he was doing.

  
"And then what, city-boy? We'll be even more stuck because we'll be on the feckin' floor." Sniper spat, his musky voice ringing within the cramped space. Scout shook his head to clear what Sniper just said. He believed that he was right as did as so. Scout squirmed to get into better positioning before ramming his flank into the side of the thin, metallic perimeter.

  
With each charge, Sniper's leg rubbed against Scouts frontal groin. Neither of the mercs noticed; the loud bang of each metallic clash went right through Sniper. After the 6th attempt he'd had enough.  
"Do that one more time and oi swear I'l-" Sniper began snarling, but was cut off by a hardness against his lower thigh.

  
Not even acknowledging what the Australian began barking, Scout continued, each plunge Sniper's leg was forced directly onto the runner's crotch.  
"Oi, stop it!" Sniper growled, before Scout collided with the wall again.

  
Once again the bushman's words flew over Scout's head, who was too determined to be the hero and save the day, hopefully impressing Ms.Pauling.

  
Sniper mumbled a few swears in disgust under his breath before adjusting his position so that his thigh was no longer in between the runner's. Scout rammed away, believing this was the only way out of the closed space, but now as Scout collided with the wall, his thigh pushed against Sniper's groin.

  
"That's enou-" BAM. "Sco-" BAM. "Sto-" BAM. Sniper's attempts to peacefully stop the determined merc were futile. Even his sigh of outrage was concealed by the urgent thrashing.  
Agitated, Sniper tried to grab the Scout to cease the ramming, but as Scout's wrists were, they too were tied. As his Plan B, Sniper himself, tackled the Scout.

  
"Stop god dammit!" he snarled as he hoisted himself into the runner. Scout yelped in shock. "I'm getting out of here weather you like it-" Once he regained his footing, Scout tackled the Sniper back. "Or not!" he finished, the resupply locker rocking in response.

  
"You spoiled little brat!" Sniper snapped, attacking the Scout once again. The entire locker fell; Scout braced himself for Sniper's mass to fall atop him.  
Scout hit the cold wall with a metallic thud, Sniper following on top, knocking the wind out of Scout. His breath warmed Sniper's neck; as the bushman lay helplessly in his boxer's and tank on top of the Scout, his hands tied, limiting his movement.

  
They both said nothing; the possibility of never seeing the light of day again, both dying in the end of all this, and the fact they were each others only company for the time allowed sexual tension to grow.  
Not to mention the mercenaries slowly growing erections.

 

For what seemed like minutes nothing happened except sweat running from Sniper's neck onto Scout's forehead.

  
They just stared at each other blankly, both their mouth's gaping as if they were about to say something; no words came out. And this is what it was like for the next few moments until Sniper could feel it. Scout's growing erection against his lower stomach. Scout broke their gaze and looked down, avoiding any eye contact until he felt something too. The elevation of the assassin's boxer's alerted the Scout, and he looked up to see Sniper looking away too. It was scorching hot inside the closet.

  
Scout hesitantly slid his hips against Sniper's and gently winced in pleasure as if to ask if it was alright to continue. Almost instantly Sniper stroked back, insisting to keep rubbing. Scout did as so, starting out slowly, creating friction to relieve Sniper who ached for more and more. Scout was groaning at the sensation. The bushman bucked his hips forward, his bulge against Scout's, bringing pleasure throughout his whole body, but he needed so much more to soothe his standards.

  
Sniper began shamelessly thrusting his erection into the still unsure Scout's, the pleasure was immense, but Sniper still hungered for more. The Australian paused and took a few deep breaths. He squirmed lower until both their heads were aligned and plunged his lips onto Scout's who immediately accepted Sniper's aggressive tongue. Scout only moaned in response.

  
The assassin continued grinding his erection against Scout's his shirt and boxers soaked with sweat.

  
Their lips were locked and Sniper's tongue won dominance for the few moments that the runner's tongue contested, but the Sniper was too eager to allow Scout any control. The bushman involuntarily groaned, pleasure growing with each forceful push.

  
Precum began to mix with the sweat in Scout's briefs and with each thrust more and more leaked out; Scout continued to moan.

The metal box rattled loudly with Sniper's movements, but neither of them cared about the noise; he plunged away into Scout's hard erection.

  
Scout began quivering as his orgasm grew closer. Strings of saliva from the merc's mouths drooled as Scout pulled away from Sniper's lips; "I'm gonna c-aughmm fuck!" was all that came out until Sniper claimed Scout's mouth as his territory once again.

  
Growing even closer, Scout's dick twitched in his compression shorts against Sniper, who was also close to his peak.

  
Dozens after dozen's of more forceful thrusts Scout came harder than he'd ever had before. The white liquid created a small white bead in his briefs as he moaned powerfully; the bead of cum grew and smeared in with Sniper's sweat.

  
Sniper climaxed not too long after, his thrusts shortening and sharpening, as the cum and sweat mixture soaked his shorts. He roared in pleasure as the sensations pulsed through his exhausted body.  
As he calmed, Sniper separated his lips from Scout's and rest his chin on the runner's forehead, which was drenched with sweat.

  
They both lie there, their sides heaving as they wheezed for air in the humid supply closet. The only source of fresh air were three little slits in the locker front which purpose was for ventilation inside the resupply closet.

  
What seemed like hours later a loud ringing echoed around them. Footsteps. Neither of them were half-asleep anymore. The clicks of the steps grew closer; louder. Scout and Sniper looked at each other alarmingly, their eyes asking for a way out. It was too late. The approaching figure hummed joyfully under their breath as they paced towards the fallen resupply closet.  
"Hmm?" approaching figure suspiciously advanced towards the closet.

  
A key was stuck inside the lock, turned, clicked open, and the door swung open.

  
A cum and sweat drenched Sniper rolled out and the Scout crawled out behind him on his forearms.

  
"Vhat ze fuck?!"


End file.
